Grating
by Rainwind
Summary: a rather interesting conversation between Harry and Draco is overheard by eavesdropping friends…much comedy results. First of the ‘Misunderstandings’ trilogy.


Grating

Summary posted: a rather interesting conversation between Harry and Draco is overheard by eavesdropping friends…much comedy results. First of the 'Misunderstandings' trilogy.

Disclaimer: the idea is totally mine (hehe) but the characters (though they might be slightly OOC) that you recognize (which is all of them) are mine. Wait. That didn't come out right. Let me try again. Disclaimer: the idea is totally mine (hehe) but the characters (though they might be slightly OOC) that you recognize (which is all of them) are NOT mine. Better? I hate you all, you cruel, copyrighting fiends.

Notes: this idea generated from a conversation I had with myself while grating cheese one day. I decided it was rather amusing and fitted it to suit this, and added in some other fun. It's rated T because if you get it and are not completely naïve, it seems decidedly…tainted. Or dirty, if you will. But that's what we all love!

Grating

…

It was a very strange day.

Why was it a very strange day?

Because for a day to be very strange, very strange things have to happen. And in this very strange day, very, very strange things had happened. Very, very, VERY strange things.

What very, very, VERY strange things had happened? You might ask.

And I will tell you, because it is my job as narrator to narrate what happened. Otherwise no one would get anything and I would cackle a lot more than I usually do. Cackle wouldn't that be fun…right. Ehem. Back to the strange happenings.

Perhaps the strangest thing that had happened was to be seen in the kitchen, where our main characters currently reside and where the main characters' friends are currently going. Why the kitchen? You might ask. And who are the main characters?

The main characters are Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, who recently informed their respective groups of best friends that the two of them would be cooking a muggle meal for them today, and to not come near the kitchen until they were told they could.

Their friends, a larger percentage of them being Slytherins, were rather adept at finding holes. Which is why when they said 'don't even come NEAR the kitchen' these friends noticed that neither of them specified how close 'near' was.

Which was why their groups of respective friends were heading towards the kitchen, intent on getting at least an inkling as to what they were going to eat or be force-fed (Draco was very touchy about things he made) that evening.

Being normal people, on the way there they conversed about nothing.

"I can't believe we're actually going to eat dinner with a bunch of Slytherins who could poison us at any time!" Ron hissed, keeping his voice low and glancing suspiciously at the unconcerned Slytherins walking next to them. Always suspicious as he was brought up to be, he had never completely gotten over all the fun-making and jokes the Slytherins had passed his way at Hogwarts.

"Relax, Ron," Hermione said soothingly, holding his hand in an equally reassuring way, "if Harry's in there, Draco can't do anything. And plus, remember, they're all on our side. They helped us win the war."

"Still…" he looked at her uncertainly; resolve already melting within his two-year girlfriends' eyes.

"And, Ronald," his vivacious sister Ginny said from where she was walking next to him, "if you recall," her voice got colder, "I am dating one of those slimy Slytherins you're talking about, and," she smirked, "if I'm correct, Harry will be as well soon."

She stepped ahead and allowed her girlfriend Pansy's arm to slip around her waist, leaning into the welcome embrace. They had been going out for three months, ever since Ginny decided that she was a lesbian and discovered that not only were Parvati and Lavender dating, the Slytherin Pansy Parkinson was bi and very available. They hit it off instantly and no one had protested but her older brother, who was more protective of her than all of her other brothers because he had been there for the chamber incident she still had scars from.

"Don't remind me," Ron said, rolling his eyes, referring to her first comment. Pansy smirked at him and pulled Ginny tighter, wincing slightly when Ginny yanked at her belly-button ring in punishment for goading Ron.

Blaise smirked and draped one arm around both Gregory and Vincent. "Don't we feel so alone," he drawled, "being the only ones not in relationships right now…" he grinned at the two boys, both at least six inches taller than him, forcing him to raise his arms and look ridiculous. "Whaddya say," he slipped his arms down and around their waists, a far more comfortable position, "there's three of us…it is legal, after all…"

They both rolled their eyes in unison and removed his arms from them. "Listen Blaise," Vince started.

"This really won't work out," Gregory continued, "we just don't-"

"Work together. Besides-"

"If we ever need someone we have each other-"

"And you'll just have to find someone for yourself by yourself."

Blaise pouted. He had always been the most open of them. "Fine then. Be that way." He cocked his head at both of them at the same time, not an easy feat, and said, "You two have spent way too much time with each other. You're starting to sound like the Weasley twins. Way too much time with each other…so, Greg," he wiggled his eyebrows, "how about some fun with the master of fun?"

Gregory pushed him into the wall and smirked. Neither of them was nearly as stupid as they pretended to be. They were, in fact, very clever and their chess games took hours because they both knew each other so well, having grown up practically next door. "Blaise, you put the 'un' in 'fun'."

"Ouch, that hurt, Greg, that hurt really deep." He put a hand to his chest with feigned hurt and pantomimed stabbing himself.

"Shhh, you guys, we're here," Pansy hissed.

Ginny, Ron and Hermione slid their extendable ears inconspicuously through the slit between the door and the floor and the four Slytherins pressed heir ears against the (thankfully thin) door.

Just in time to hear Draco say, "do I have to push any harder? My wrist is starting to hurt."

"Draco, if you don't push hard it won't work. I know this doesn't seem like it matters, but it's a very big part."

"Oh, what," Draco snorted, "This is a BIG part? It definitely is big. Very big." He snickered.

"Shut up, stop with the sarcasm and finish what you started, Draco," Harry said, "that's right, just like that. Perfect! Just a little harder…harder…HARDER DAMMIT…there. Done. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Speak for yourself," Draco complained, "you never do anything."

"Just sprinkle it on top and we'll start on the next…item…on the…list."

"Harry! I'm surprised at you!" They could practically hear him smirking.

"You really shouldn't be."

"Of course I shouldn't. I know you, Harry."

The seven former schoolmates exchanged wide-eyed looks and turned back to listening, ignoring Ginny who was mouthing, "I told you so, didn't I tell you so? I SO told you so."

"Right! This is the fun part!"

"I'm sure it is. It can't be any more fun than the last part. I'm practically funned out."

"Sarcasm detector going crazy here, Dray."

"Quit it with the stupid pet names, POTTER, I get enough of them from Pansy and Ginny."

"Oh, so we're back to last names, then? But they're cute, Malfy!"

"Malfy? What the fuck is wrong with you? Not the hair, Potter, you've already ruffled it enough…"

"Whatever. Look, we need to get started otherwise we won't finish in time!"

"Right. So what do we need?"

"Whipping cream."

"Got it."

"Strawberries."

"Yep."

"Melted chocolate."

"On the stove."

"Sugar Cookie mix."

"In the oven."

"Chocolate sauce?"

"Both liquid and instant hardening."

Instant…everyone's mouths fell open even further, if physically possible. Instant…hardening…? Chocolate…?

"Sprinkles?"

"Uhhh…"

"Don't tell me you forgot the sprinkles!"

"I didn't. They were hidden behind the ice cream. Why do we need vanilla ice cream? It's so white and sticky."

"A lot of things are white and sticky, Draco, like these!"

"Put the jars away, Potter, I don't know why you even kept those."

"It's cool and blobby! And we had fun making them. Okay … ingredients … basically, everything else on this rather long list."

"Hmm…everything's right here. At the tip of my fingers." They heard him smirk again. "Or a bit longer."

"It's not that much bigger."

"I beg to differ, Potter, it really is."

"Shut up, Malfoy, you got first grabs."

"I sure did. Being a Malfoy, it's even in my genes. Always first."

"Are we starting or not?"

"We are. So…here's our first ingredient. And what we need."

"Don't tell me you're actually using the whip, Draco!"

"Well the book-of-all-knowledge says-"

"I know what it says…but that's not what you're supposed to do. Look, you use this."

"That looks even more dangerous than my whip, which happens to be genuine Italian leather." There was a cracking sound that seemed very well trained, as if Draco had used the whip before.

"But trust me, Dray, it works a lot better. A whole lot better."

"Okay…so what about this, then?"

"A cudgel? No, see, you use this."

"The same thing? But…man, that must be good. Show me."

Ron stood up suddenly, looking slightly ill. Hermione and Ginny looked up, concerned, as Ron rushed off the to the bathroom, face almost greenish. The two girls followed reluctantly, Pansy following her girlfriend dutifully. Worried about the four, Blaise, Vince and Greg didn't hear Harry saying, "you whip the cream with the electric eggbeater because whipping the whipping cream thickens it, whereas beating eggs only scrambles them together. You also have to add sugar to the whipping cream to make it sweet."

"Why are there so many violent terms in cooking?"

"No idea, but we should get started."

With a backwards glance at the door, almost wistful, Blaise left, pulling Greg and Vince behind him, to search for kinky sex toys in the next-door rooms of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, now firmly convinced that the two were in a serious relationship as Ginny had suggested, because it certainly sounded like it.

Of course, their perception of the events in the kitchen were way off. As narrator, I have the power to warp time and go back so we might look at it from a different, cleaner angle.

Draco and Harry's, of course…

"Do I have to push any harder? My wrist is starting to hurt." Draco pushed the block of marble cheese harder against the puny holes in the grater, wishing he could use magic and just get it done with. He knew a very handy shredding charm…or they could have bought pre-shredded cheese. But no, for lasagna it just had to be fresh. And Harry having a broken wrist from Quidditch was making him do all the work.

"Draco, if you don't push hard it won't work. I know this doesn't seem like it matters, but it's a very big part."

"Oh, what," Draco snorted, "This is a BIG part? It definitely is big. Very big." He snickered. The bowl was, after all, very large. The vat of lasagna seemed endless. At the manor it always came piece by piece on a plate. Hand-making things was so difficult. He didn't know how the muggles survived.

"Shut up, stop with the sarcasm and finish what you started, Draco," Harry said, "that's right, just like that. Perfect! Just a little harder…harder…HARDER DAMMIT…there. Done. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Speak for yourself," Draco complained, "you never do anything." He shook out his sore wrist and held it ruefully in his other hand.

"Just sprinkle it on top and we'll start on the next…item…on the…list."

"Harry! I'm surprised at you!" He smirked, aware that Harry was so naïve he was completely unaware of the sexual innuendo in the sentence.

"You really shouldn't be."

"Of course I shouldn't. I know you, Harry."

Draco sighed and started, lightly sprinkling the perfectly shredded cheese on top of each layer of pasta and spreading on the cottage cheese and tomato sauce, layering it like in the illustration in the cookbook. He shoved it in the already preset oven and pulled his hands away quickly.

"Right! This is the fun part!" He still didn't get it, Draco thought, amazed. Dessert was the fun part, but anyone listening would think he meant something way different.

"I'm sure it is. It can't be any more fun than the last part. I'm practically funned out."

"Sarcasm detector going crazy here, Dray."

"Quit it with the stupid pet names, POTTER, I get enough of them from Pansy and Ginny."

"Oh, so we're back to last names, then? But they're cute, Malfy!" Harry reached out with his uninjured left wrist and ruffled Draco's hair, messing it up and getting some grated cheese (who knows how it got on his hand) in it.

"Malfy? What the fuck is wrong with you? Not the hair, Potter, you've already ruffled it enough…" Harry smiled at him fondly; always thinking as a friend, ruffled one more time and let his arm drop to his side, then cradle his other wrist.

"Whatever. Look, we need to get started otherwise we won't finish in time!" They only had about half an hour.

"Right. So what do we need?"

"Whipping cream." To spread over the strawberries.

"Got it."

"Strawberries." To put on top of the cookies.

"Yep."

"Melted chocolate." To pour on top of the strawberries.

"On the stove."

"Sugar Cookie mix." For the cookies.

"In the oven."

"Chocolate sauce?"

"Both liquid and instant hardening."

"Sprinkles?"

"Uhhh…"

"Don't tell me you forgot the sprinkles!"

"I didn't. They were hidden behind the ice cream. Why do we need vanilla ice cream? It's so white and sticky." Draco had had a bad childhood experience with vanilla ice cream, and while he liked eating it, getting it all over him (as was bound to happen while he made the dessert) was not an option that was welcomed.

"A lot of things are white and sticky, Draco, like these!" Harry pulled two jars out of his huge pockets, one full of white goop they had made on a trip to a museum and one with homemade goop, corn starch supersaturated in water, that hardened when held tightly and was mushy when let drip. Harry had an obsession with goop and gooey things, because he'd never really had access to things like putty when he was young.

"Put the jars away, Potter, I don't know why you even kept those."

"It's cool and blobby! And we had fun making them. Okay … ingredients … basically, everything else on this rather long list." Harry handed the book to Draco, who skimmed the list and looked over the ingredients on the counter.

"Hmm…everything's right here. At the tip of my fingers." They heard him smirk again. "Or a bit longer." He gestured to the very large metal bowl in front of him.

"It's not that much bigger," Harry pouted, holding his own smaller metal bowl to him tightly.

"I beg to differ, Potter, it really is." It was several inches bigger, big enough that Harry's could easily fit inside it.

"Shut up, Malfoy, you got first grabs."

"I sure did. Being a Malfoy, it's even in my genes. Always first." He had run into the kitchen and instantly grabbed the biggest bowl, protecting it fiercely from Harry, who tried in vain with one uncrippled arm to get his beloved bowl.

"Are we starting or not?"

"We are. So…here's our first ingredient. And what we need." Draco uncoiled a long, leather whip from his pocket, fully prepared to whip the cream.

"Don't tell me you're actually using the whip, Draco!"

"Well the book-of-all-knowledge says-"

"I know what it says…but that's not what you're supposed to do. Look, you use this." Harry took out an electric eggbeater from a cupboard and handed it to Draco, who looked at it suspiciously.

"That looks even more dangerous than my whip, which happens to be genuine Italian leather." Draco smirked and brandished it, liking the well-trained cracking sound it made.

"But trust me, Dray, it works a lot better. A whole lot better." Draco sighed and put the whip away.

"Okay…so what about this, then?" He opened a drawer and took out his custom made cudgel, which he was planning to use to beat the eggs. He really needed to get some sense into those things. Honestly, white with yellow? It just didn't work!

"A cudgel? No, see, you use this."

"The same thing? But…man, that must be good. Show me."

Harry showed him which buttons to use silently, underlining their specific labels with his thumb. Draco rolled his eyes heavenwards, clearly saying 'do you think I'm stupid?'

He grabbed the appliance from Harry, who was saying, "You whip the cream with the electric eggbeater because whipping the whipping cream thickens it, whereas beating eggs only scrambles them together. You also have to add sugar to the whipping cream to make it sweet." Placing it on the counter, he opened the whipped cream carton and poured a good amount of it into the huge metal bowl. He picked up the whole bag of sugar and poured an even better amount of the sugar into the whipping cream, then stirred it together, adding more and more until the liquid couldn't absorb any more and then putting it down and flicking the switch on the electric egg beater.

Nothing happened.

"Ha!" He said triumphantly, "I told you! Your pathetic muggle devices have once again failed you! The television and radio included!" He pulled the whip out of his pocket again and started cracking it when Harry plugged the beater into the wall and flicked the switch.

Draco stared at the whirring blades and backed away, whip disappearing into his pocket. "Okaaay…so it does work."

Harry sighed. "Look, I'll show you. You tilt the bowl like this – can you hold that? It's difficult with a broken wrist – and try not to let it hit the bottom." There was a pause and the electric whir of the beater, occasional rattling noises when he let the blades hit the bottom of the bowl. "See how it's thickening? You don't want it to thin because then it'll turn everything into mush, but whip it too much and it tastes gross, so stop when I tell you."

Draco tentatively took the beater and held it carefully, keeping his fingers away and holding it tightly. In a few seconds he relaxed, realizing it wasn't going to attack him. There was a companionable silence – broken only by the beater – while they both concentrated on the whipping cream.

"And…stop." Draco flicked the switch the other way and the whirring stopped. Harry dipped a finger into it and stuck it in his mouth, licking the whipped cream off slowly. Draco gulped and looked down at the perfect creases in the whipped cream. "Perfect," Harry pronounced, "clean the blades off, we need them for the eggs."

Draco smirked. He pulled the blades out of the machine and slowly licked them off. "Mmm, you're right," he said, licking bit of it off his lips, "it is good. I'm a genius."

Harry blushed and turned away, pushing the cookbook closer to Draco. "Here, we have to finish. We only have twenty-three minutes now."

For the next twenty-three minutes Draco and Harry worked in silence, Harry directing Draco occasionally and Draco doing everything else from the book. Draco dipped a finger in the whipped cream and stuck it in his mouth, knowing it made Harry uncomfortable because he hadn't come to terms with his blatant bisexuality yet, wiping the counter down with the other hand.

"There," he said smugly, "all finished. Dessert done, lasagna done…oh, crap…OVEN MITTS!" He shoved them on and quickly pulled the lasagna out of the oven, carefully placing the smoking dish on a cooling rack. "We should go clean up," he said, pulling the mitts off and hanging them on a hook, "we're all covered with food and…stuff."

Harry blushed again. 'Finally, he gets it,' Draco thought smugly. He left the room; glad his pants were tight because he could feel Harry's eyes following him. For several minutes after Draco had left Harry sat there, vaguely dazed. The he got up, tottering a little, and followed Draco up to their rooms, which were next to each other, but not before saying, "compingere," to lock the kitchen to unwanted prowlers like Blaise, who had proven notoriously sneaky.

He didn't even notice the three extendable ears lying innocently on the floor, or the light smell coming from the washroom across the hall. He just floated up to his room and got changed, careful not to jar his wrist.

Three seconds later, Draco roared, "WHY IS THERE GRATED CHEESE IN MY HAIR?" Harry winced and locked his door seconds before there was a thud as something hit his door. Later inspection revealed that it was the egg-beating cudgel, which Draco seemed to have found another use for.

…

"FOOD'S READY!" Draco yelled up the stairs, looking fresh and rested though they'd only been in their rooms for fifteen minutes.

There were thumping noises as they herded down the stairs, dressed in their best. Harry unlocked the door to a normal kitchen with the table set out perfectly.

"By the way, Draco," Blaise said, "did you wipe down the table when you were done?"

Draco looked at him quizzically. "We wiped down the counters because that was where we did most of the cooking and stuff, but not the table."

"Stuff…?" Blaise muttered under his breath, kicking the extendable ears under a rug inconspicuously.

Hermione laughed nervously. "How about we…uhhh…eat on the dining room table…just to make it more…formal?"

"We haven't cleaned that, either," Draco said, looking guilty, "we did some over there, too."

"There too?" Ginny asked, astonished, "my, you've been busy!"

"Yes, well," Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously, hoping they would like it, "we had a lot to do."

"I'm sure you did, Harry," Blaise said, patting him on the back, "I'm sure you did."

…

That's the end! I rather like this one-shot. Short (well, fairly), sweet (…nyeh…) and to the point (one again, nyeh…). In a manner of speaking. Actually…I might make a second chapter to this. Maybe even a third ooooh, ahhh…

Heh, heh. And to think, the idea for this fic came from grating cheese…

If you do that long enough, your wrist really does start to hurt.

Hope you liked it!


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